The Number Nine
by E.K. Young
Summary: In the beginning there were nine of us. Now, six remain. They got One in Malaysia, Two in England, and Three in Kenya. How long till they get to the rest? And what about me? What happens when I'm the last one left? I am Nine…but you can call me Shammy.
1. Chapter 1

The Number Nine

**PROLOGUE**

I don't remember much of Lorien. I was only four when I had been forced to flee my home planet. I remember the two moons…and the lights. I had asked my grandmother what the lights were and she had thought they were fireworks. It was a festival after all.

But they weren't fireworks.

Then I remember my grandmother's panicked eyes as she handed me a locket before Darian took my hand and ran. I remember when the charm was cast, when the circular scar appeared on my ankle. There was pain, I remember that. I remember boarding a ship that was headed to Earth with nine other Gardes and their Cepans. I watched my home planet shrink away, a sinking feeling in my heart.

There are nine of us…there _were_ nine of us. We are masters of blending in—we can look like you, talk like you, act like you but we are different from you.

Our purpose was to protect our planet but we were never given a chance. Now, we are on Earth, hiding. We are not safe.

And neither are you.

I don't remember much of Lorien…but my heart longs for it.

*n i n e*

**CHAPTER 1**

THE STREETS OF MANILA, PHILIPPINES is teeming with people, as always. Street vendors litter the sidewalks, trying to sell their goods to any tourist willing to stop for a moment to look. I sit on the roof of a skyscraper, my hood drawn over my face as I watch the people below from behind my oversized shades.

If Darian was still alive, she'd hate Manila. She'd say that it was too crowded, that the Mogadorians would catch us no problems…but she's not alive anymore. It's been two years but the pain of being alone has never faded.

I call myself Shammy here, a play on words for the number nine in Tagalog. Siyam, pronounced sham…almost like Sam. Maybe I'll keep this name when I get to China.

I draw my knees to my chest, my finger running over the newly formed red circular scar on my right ankle. I wince as I touch a raw spot and my finger trails over the other two circular scars beneath the new, raw scar. One…two…and three. Three brothers and sisters gone, their lives taken by Mogadorians…so young…

I sigh and stand. It was time to go.

I take one last look at the bustling city below me before leaping into the air and jetting off in the direction of China.

*n i n e*

I unexpectedly came into my first Legacy early, probably earlier than the other eight. It was by mere coincidence, but my body reacted.

I had just turned 10 and I enjoyed heights. I enjoyed watching the world below me. I had been climbing the big, ancient oak tree behind the house that Darian and I had been living in at the time. I climbed and climbed until I reached the top and could see over the tops of houses in the small town. It had been a delightful summer day and I had closed my eyes, enjoying a gentle breeze between the trees. Italy had beautiful summers…Suddenly, a searing pain began on my right ankle. I screamed, lost my grip on the branches, and fell. As I fell I clutched my ankle, hissing in pain. I probably would have been hurt by the great fall but I never reached the ground. Instead, when I opened my eyes, I was floating. Darian had run to the door, her silver Cepan sword in her hand. She was in a battle stance, but once she saw what was happening she smiled.

She dropped her sword and rushed to me, gathering me in her arms. "I cannot believe it! You have gotten your first legacy!" she whispered into my ear, clearly proud at the development.

After that incident I found out that most Gardes don't even come into their Legacies until, at the earliest, 12 years old. I would have been considered a prodigy in Lorien. My other Legacies continued appearing steadily after that day and Darian trained me accordingly until all of the secrets that had been hidden in the Chest were revealed.

I still have that Chest with me. I keep it as a memory of Lorien…and of Darian.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I had gone to watch I Am Number Four recently and fell in love with the story line. A muse appeared and I just had to write. The first chapter maybe a bit iffy but stay tuned for the rest!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

*n i n e*

Darian was a beauty, both on Lorien and Earth. She was a strong woman, it was the first thing that you would notice when you met her. She was a petite woman, standing at a height of 5' 5" but she carried herself with an air pride; she intimidated people with her sharp, hazel eyes. As I grew older I began to envy her beauty—her beautiful, curly brown hair, her eyes, her hands…I was especially jealous of her hands.

But Darian was not all pride, and sharpness, and intimidation. No…she had a beautiful smile and she was kind. I remember when I was five, when we landed on Earth, I had started crying, calling for my grandmother. Darian gathered me in her arms and held me, humming a sweet, Loric lullaby in my ear. I fell asleep and when I woke up we were in a little red car, driving with Two and her Keeper.

When we got to a little French village on the coast, we separated from Two. We drove a bit farther and ended up in a little town near Paris. We lived there for 4 months before we moved to Greece. We kept moving around for five years and Europe became my playground.

When I was ten, One died and we knew that the Mogadorians had found us. So we ran again. For a while we lived in Macedonia, and then Turkey. By the time I was twelve I had acquired all of my Legacies. Three Legacies—Flight, Foresight, Control over plants.

When I was twelve, they caught two and then they found us. Darian and I were fleeing and they were hot on our trail. They wanted to capture me but Darian wouldn't have it so we ran. They followed. They shot at us with their guns. "Fly!" she screamed. I took her hand and jumped into the air, taking her with me. Too late. They had tossed a knife without my knowing. By the time we landed in Bulgaria, she was gone.

I made a tomb for her in a forest and I covered it with roses…her favourite.

I've been alone since then and I blamed myself. Why couldn't I predict the Mogadorians' attack? Why did Darian have to die?

I grew independent but I felt forsaken, cursed. Then I grew angry, my blood boiled.

I would get my revenge.

A couple of hours ago a new scar had seared itself on to my ankle. Three was gone and suddenly, I had a vision. I have to get to Beijing, someone is there that I need to meet. Who, exactly, I don't know. But I know that this meeting is crucial to my survival—to the survival of the remaining Lorien Six.

*n i n e*

* * *

Author's Note: A tad short but I though some background on Both Shammy and Darian were necessary. I'm a very sporadic writer so there are times when I will update quickly and times when I reach a plateau with my consistency to update; however, it doesn't mean that I've stopped writing. Simply that I am busy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

*n i n e*

"Grandmother!" my voice is choked up and I feel hot tears trickling over my cheeks. I wrap my arms around my dear grandmother's neck, clinging to her, wishing that she would come with me but though I keep asking, my voice rising with every request, she keeps telling me that she cannot come with me where I am going.

I feel her shaking, hear her gasping in my ear as she cries silently. A loud noise and a tremor goes through the building, grandmother pulls away and stares at me—her usually tidy hair is unkempt, her eyes rimmed with red, tears streaming from her eyes which are wild as she stares into mine intently. "I love you," she says simply as Darian comes and grabs my arm pulling me away.

I reach out for my grandmother, screaming as Darien drags me to the platform that would take me into the ship, holding onto me tight so that I would not run. "No! Grandmother! _No!"_

Grandmother rises as she watches me, a lonely form in a docking bay filled with rubble and dead bodies. She reaches out a hand as well, as if to take my hand in hers. "I love you,—"Her last word, my name, I cannot hear it and suddenly I wake up.

I look around me, eyes bleary as I survey my surroundings. I gather my thoughts and recall that I am in a cheap motel in Hong Kong. I sit up in bed and stretch before climbing off and walking to the window. I lean against the window frame as I hold the cheap vinyl blind aside, looking into the street. It is the morning rush hour and the streets are teeming with people, most in business suit, some in civilian clothing, and there are even some who display atrocious fashions as they walk through the street. I look at these people with suspicion—they could easily be Mogadorians disguised as enigmatic humans.

I step away from the window. Two weeks in Hong Kong yet I still haven't found who I am looking for, whoever they may be.

_**A/N:**_ Hi! Wow. An update! Sadly, it's not the _whole_ chapter. I found this baby sitting around in my hard drive and I suddenly remembered that I have an account on this site! Joking aside, I'm well aware that The Power of Six has been released **but** I have yet to read it. Mainly because I'm too busy reading the _Leviathan_ series by Scott Westerfeld—check it out, it's actually very good.

Anyhow, the rumour mill tells me that Nine has made an appearance! And he's a male! This puts me in quite an iffy predicament so I thought I'd ask you, my readers. Would you like me to continue my story or shall I end it all together? I leave it up to you. Have a good day!

-Sylvia


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